The Master Splinter Series
by TMNT-Queen
Summary: A collection of short drabbles that take place after the events of the last few episodes in season 4. Each drabble is told from a different character's point of view.
1. The Mind That Mourns: Donatello's Story

**The Mind that Mourns**

 _"The most painful goodbyes are the ones that are never said and never explained."_

* * *

It's very early in the morning, the doors to the bedrooms still shut. All are asleep.

All but one.

He huddles in the lab, either unable or unwilling to stop the tears from cascading down his cheeks. The fight he'd had with his brother earlier echoes in his mind.

 _"You should've been able to do something! You should've **saved** him!"_

 _"I can't fix everything!"_

 _"Then what good are you? What good are you if you can't even help your own **father**?!"_

It isn't his fault, he knows. There was nothing he – or anyone – could've done. Nothing to stop the Shredder from killing their father. Nothing to make time spin backwards.

But the guilt still weighs heavy on his shoulders. The pain echoes in his heart, growing until he can hold it in no longer.

"Why?!" he screams, the word like a thunderclap in the silence. "Why did you have to leave?! Why couldn't you stay?!"

His voice breaks, his lower lip quivering. "Why couldn't I save you?" The words are whispered. Anything louder is too hard to say, too difficult to get past the lump in his throat.

The empty darkness provides no answer. He lets out a half-sob and pulls his knees to his chest.

Soon he will push the guilt and the anger and the sorrow down, locking them away. He will carry on, doing what needs to be done. All tasks seem meaningless now, but they are necessary to keep the household running.

He will do it, because that is what they expect of him. And even if he wants to break down and weep, he will keep going, keep working and fixing and building. Because that is what needs to happen.

With a shuddering, bone-weary sigh, the turtle pulls himself out of the chair and walks out into the main room, waiting for his brothers to wake up and the new day to begin.

He will make sure that they keep going, keep pushing forward. They may not realize it because it will be done subtly. But he will do it.

 _I won't let you down, Father. I promise._


	2. The Pain We Hide: Michelangelo's Story

**The Pain We Hide**

 _"The worst kind of pain is when you're smiling just to stop the tears from falling."_

* * *

For a week now, he had been hiding his pain behind a smile. Behind the jokes and the fake laughter and the teasing comments. He knew that his brothers didn't believe him for a second, but he didn't care.

He wasn't there when it happened. Wasn't there on the rooftop when Shredder's blade sunk deep into their father's body. Wasn't there when the rat slumped forward, that wise light leaving his eyes forever. But he still heard his brothers' cries of shock and denial and horror.

He still saw their father lying on the ground, crumpled and broken, all traces of life gone.

 _Papa!_

His eyes burned with tears and he bit down hard on his lower lip to keep from crying again. He had cried too much already in the short time since that night.

He was different. They all were, really. But he knew that the change was most noticeable in himself. No longer was he constantly smiling and laughing – a real smile, a real laugh. No longer did he paint or sing or whistle. And why should he, when the guiding light of his existence had disappeared? When that warmth, that eternal wisdom, had vanished?

A strangled noise erupted from his throat and then he was on the floor, bawling, his arms wrapped around himself. _You were supposed to be invincible,_ he thought miserably. _No one was supposed to beat you._

For to his young mind, their father _had_ been invincible...and the turtle's own personal superhero.

 _"My son..."_

Slowly, he raised his head. "Papa?" he whispered, something like hope appearing in his tearful gaze.

And there was the old rat, wise as ever. His form shimmered with an ethereal light as he knelt across from the turtle. _"Do not cry because your time with me is over, my son. Smile because that time happened."_

It didn't really make sense to him, but it didn't matter. All he knew was that his father was there, talking to him. "How?" the turtle whimpered. "It hurts, Sensei. It hurts so much."

 _"Nothing lasts forever,"_ was the gentle reply. _"Not even a family."_

"But it was supposed to!" he cried, his tone sharp with denial. "You're...you're Splinter! The master ninja! You-"

 _"Be calm, my son. It will be all right. It will be all right."_

Warmth enveloped the ninja, wrapping around him so much like the arms of his beloved father. He inhaled and closed his eyes, leaning backwards a little. And just for a moment, it seemed as if the aged rat really was holding him close and murmuring to him as he had done when the turtles were but children.

The hurt and anger and sorrow slowly ebbed away, leaving him exhausted. His eyelids drooped as a soft, furry hand ghosted over his forehead.

 _"I will always be with you, my son."_

He yawned, his eyes sliding shut. "I love you, Papa."

 _"I love you too."_

The tired turtle barely felt it when one of his brother's strong, muscled arms slid underneath him and carried him to his bedroom. But for the first time in a week, he slept deeply, without fear, without nightmares.

A smile was on his face the next morning. It was weak, and it was small, but it was there. It was a true smile, for the first time in days. When he thought about the conversation the night before, that same warmth curled around his heart.

That rich, deep voice echoed in his mind every day, prompting him to get up and move. _"I will always be with you, my son."_

So he kept smiling. And little by little, he began to laugh again. He began to crack jokes, and paint, and whistle again.

He began to live again.

 _I love you, Papa._


	3. The Strength to Stand: Leonardo's Story

**The Strength to Stand**

 _"Losing someone when you're young is the greatest pain anyone can face." ~Amory Blaine_

* * *

Sweat beads on his forehead. Pain shoots through his body.

 _Keep pushing._

Panting. Aching. Emotions roiling.

 _Never stop moving._

If he stops, it consumes him. The anger. The helplessness. The anguish. All the things that he's been feeling ever since that night.

 _I can't stop. I **won't** stop. _

But finally, the strength leaves him. And so does his resolve.

He collapses, alone in the dojo, as his heart shatters for the millionth time. Tears soak his mask and roll down his cheeks. _I'm so sorry, Father. I should've been there. If I had just been a little faster...I'm sorry I failed you._

In a few minutes, he will rise again. He will put on a mask of strength and near indifference, because that is what they expect. That is what they need.

And even if his heart aches each time he sees their father's teacup or smells the familiar scents of sandalwood and jasmine, if his eyes fill with tears, he will keep going. When his brothers break down, he will be there to comfort them, to wrap them in his arms and hold them tight.

He is ninja. And ninja never quit.

So he picks himself up off of the mats soaked with sweat and tears, and he begins again.


	4. The Tears We Cry: Raphael's Story

**The Tears We Cry**

 _"Crying is the only way you can speak when your mouth can't explain how something broke your heart."_

* * *

Rain and sweat run into his eyes, mingling with the tears. There's the taste of salt on his lips, but he lets himself pretend that it's just left over from dinner.

It's not that he's ashamed to cry. No, that's not it at all. It's just that if he starts – really, truly starts -, he might never stop.

So he keeps sprinting along the rooftops, pushing himself harder and harder until his legs ache and his lungs burn, until his blood pounds and his vision is fuzzy from lack of oxygen.

And then, just for a moment, with the rain pounding on his face and neck, with his heartbeat in his ears, he can make himself forget.

But all too soon the moment is gone, and the images and sounds flash in his mind again. The crunch of bone and the wet squelch of steel through flesh. His father, hunched over with a look of shock and pain on his face. The dull thud of a body hitting the concrete.

This time, he can't push past the rage and the sorrow. It swells inside him, culminating in a scream that tears itself from his throat. He falls to his knees, crushed by the realization that his father is really and truly gone. There will be no more meditation sessions with him, no more family movie nights. No more retelling of the mutation day story in their father's rich, smooth words.

His lip trembles and his fists clench. "I am _not_ going to cry. I won't."

 _"Tears do not show weakness, my son. It takes a special kind of strength to cry for someone."_

The voice comes from nowhere, nearly startling the ninja out of his shell. His head jerks up, bloodshot eyes searching for the owner of that voice, that beloved figure in a red kimono. But the rooftop is empty save for the rain.

 _"Take courage, my son. It will be all right."_

At those words, something in him settles. A strange peace washes over him, relieving some of the weight that had settled on his broad shoulders that awful night.

With new resolve in his mind, he stands and wipes the tears from his face. Taking a deep breath, he starts towards the Lair, where he knows his brothers will be waiting anxiously to see if he will return or not.

When he gets there, he will grin and act as if everything is just fine.

He will be strong because they need him to be. Because they deserve it.

"Take courage," he echoes softly. _I will, Dad. I promise._


End file.
